


The Sunrise

by readingbylamplight



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Families of Choice, Found Family, Gen, Team as Family, well...eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readingbylamplight/pseuds/readingbylamplight
Summary: Sam didn’t know what was ahead of them as he sat on the stairs outside the incinerator, watching the rain fall, or even where he would get the supplies, but he knew they’d make it work.They always do, him and Lou.
Relationships: BB-28 | Louise & Sam Porter Bridges, Sam Porter Bridges & Deadman, Sam Porter Bridges & Fragile, Sam Porter Bridges & Lockne, Sam Porter Bridges & Mama
Comments: 33
Kudos: 164





	1. Sam

He walked away.

From Bridges, from the cufflinks now destroyed in the incinerator pod, from everything. Every connection to them was gone, and now the only thing that mattered to him was Lou. 

He walked away without a real plan; it’s not like he could have picked up any supplies they would need on his way out, it would have been a dead giveaway that he was considering taking Lou out of the pod and disobeying a direct order to destroy her yet again. 

Sam didn’t know what was ahead of them as he sat on the stairs outside the incinerator, watching the rain fall, or even where he would get the supplies, but he knew they’d make it work. 

They always do, him and Lou. 

. . .

There was an old bunker a couple miles out past the incinerator, one that couldn't be persuaded to join the chiral network, and that’s where he went. 

There was only one person who he could trust to get him what he needed, and thankfully, he didn’t need the chiral network to reach her. All he needed was a regular signal, and he knew that the old woman in the bunker kept her communications systems well-maintained. Not even the heavy timefall while he was on the Beach would have completely destroyed them, he was sure. 

The rain fell around them as he walked, now as harmless as it had ever been in his lifetime. Amelie sealing off the world from the Beach had done more than just saved them from the Sixth Extinction, it stopped the aftereffects of the Death Stranding. There hadn’t been a BT sighting in the weeks since his return from the Beach, the timefall had become harmless drops of water again, and the tar belt had receded. 

The world could now rebuild, and Sam could find his new way in it. 

They reached the bunker within an hour, Lou wrapped up in his spare shirt from his pack and strapped to his front with one of the climbing ropes. The old woman recognized him, and the sight of Lou warmed her up more than any deliveries ever would have. She let him use the communications array without question; going inside and leaving him to his work after a while 

He sent the message in text form, not trusting that Bridges could somehow be watching the hologram communications, and waited. 

_ Delivery order received - Fragile Express _

While Fragile couldn't jump using the Beach anymore, he knew she was still only a couple of hours away in Capital Knot City, well within range to run some supplies out fairly quickly since she would have trucks at her disposal. He’d sent it in under the old woman’s name, with her permission, and then he settled in to take a nap with Lou against the wall of the shelter.

After a long while he heard the truck pull up on the rocky ground and opened his eyes, watching as Fragile climbed out and walked his way.

“You’re not as sneaky as you think, you know?” She said, crossing her arms over her chest, “The place closest to the incinerator asking for formula and diapers on the same day you're ordered to decommission your BB? You’re lucky he didn’t see the order.”

“I knew it would be you. Die-Hardman’s too busy running a country to be digging around in your orders.”

Fragile sighs, shaking her head, but steps forward with a case. He takes it, undoing the locks and opening it. 

“Deadman found a design for this in the President’s old files, finished it shortly after you left today. Couldn’t build it sooner and risk Die-Hardman finding out, so he gave it to me, hoping that if Lou did make it, you’d contact one of us eventually and it would get to you.” 

It was a pod, similar to BB’s old one, but slightly bigger and missing the logos that labeled it as a BB unit. 

“There’s a letter in there from him, it’ll explain how it works and what you need to do to set it up.”

Sam nods, setting the case down next to his canteen where he had been sitting as she opened a smaller case from the cab of the truck.

“New ID chips for you both. Haven’t put anything on them yet, figured you’d want to make that choice. When you do, it’ll register in my system, so when you put in an order I'll personally be notified.”

“Thank you.”

The silence falls then, awkward and pain-filled. The professionalism of the delivery has passed, leaving them with only their last conversation for company.

_ I’ve got no ties to anyone or anything. Everything I touch, I lose. _

Sam knew he hadn't treated her right in that moment, hated that it had happened. The pain of losing Lou had been carefully bottled up until he could be alone to grieve, but her pushing him to stay had caused the anger that was bottled up with it to lash out at her. 

Lou had made him human again, made it to where he could make these connections again, and almost losing her made him want to be isolated from everyone. To not make those connections. To not be hurt again. 

He knew before she even drew breath to speak that she’d try again. Try to bring him back, to reconnect. 

“Sam, promise me you’ll keep in touch with someone. Any of us.”

She stepped forward, but stopped when he moved back, trying to respect the distance he put between them. 

“You don’t have to cut all ties, the work is done, you connected the country and brought together a group of people who care about you. And now there’s her, are you still going to run?”

“I can’t come back, you know that. If Die-Hardman sees her, he’ll know what I did, and I can’t put her at risk like that.”

“I’m not asking you to come back, not really, I’m just asking for you to keep in touch. The new ID tags will give you access to Bridges locations under a new name and everyone but Die-Hardman is leaving Capital Knot and returning home. He won’t find her.”

“He will.”

“And if he does, you’ll have every single one of us at your back, ready to take a bullet for her.”

She turned, going back down the steps and into the harmless rain once more. 

“Maybe I was wrong,” He said, and she stopped, “when I said I lose everything I touch.”

It was a subtle attempt at an apology, not even a good one, but she seemed to understand. Fragile turned back, meeting his eyes for a long moment, and nodded. The smallest smile pulled at the corners of her lips.

“Maybe. Keep in touch, Sam.”

. . .

They left the next morning once the sun had risen, and Sam wasn't really sure where they were going. 

He had set up the new pod the night before, wanting to get Lou into it as soon as possible, the instructions fairly simple. It would keep her safe behind bulletproof glass, as well as warm and fed, until she would be considered full term and healthy enough to exist on the outside. A port had come with it as well, close to the same design as the one that had pulled blood from his veins to fill the grenades, and he hooked the pod up to it. What he ate would keep her fed too, the note had explained, preventing him from having to carry excess cargo of formula and other supplies until she was outside the pod. 

She seemed happy in there, more lively than she had been in the world outside of it, flipping and blowing heart bubbles at him as they walked. 

“Just like old times,” He murmured to her as he climbed onto the bike another porter had left behind. 

_ The work is done,  _ the words echoed in his head as the bike roared to life,  _ are you still going to run? _

. . .

The gunshot rings out, Cliff’s,  _ no, his father’s,  _ body slumps against him, and he wakes up. 

He understands now why Die-Hardman wept as he apologized. How many people had known his origins, how he had been stolen away and parents murdered by the now-dead President? 

He hadn't been around Bridget for years, cutting all ties after the voidout and disappearing into the wilderness. He’d lost everything, and when he finally returned to her, she asked for more. Everyone always asked for more.  _ It has to be you, she made a contract with you, it’s up to you. _

And like a fool, he did what she asked despite his gut telling him not too. 

He didn't care about reconnecting the country, didn’t care about Bridget’s legacy. A legacy now drowning in innocent blood. The BB experiments, hidden away, the sacrifices made in the name of progress. A lifetime now scarred by memories he wasn't supposed to have, of a father’s love and desperation and his murder. 

He’d always been a tool to Bridget, to Amelie, meant at first to be the sacrifice that allowed the plan to continue and later the pawn to bring about the end of it all. 

Now they were gone, the work was done, and instead of picking up everyone else’s pieces, it was time for Sam to pick up his own. 

_ “Don’t make the same mistake...Be yourself, be free.” _

The ID chips sat heavy in his pocket, and he sat down on a rock and pulled them out to look at them again. Blank, waiting for him, waiting for a name.

He couldn’t be Sam Strand, couldn’t be Sam Bridges, couldn’t even be Sam Porter. All three names clung to old weight and demons, and if the work was done,  _ truly done _ , it meant that he should be free from it.

There was only one name that would do, the name he was always meant to be.

“Unger. Sam and Louise Unger.”

  
  



	2. Lou

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short! Next one hopefully coming soon.
> 
> Warnings for injury and blood mentions

He sings to her a lot.

It’s soft, slightly out of tune, and barely even loud enough for her to hear, he thinks, but he does. 

Sam remembers his father singing the same song to him, long ago when he was a BB, and how comforting it was. Even now it comforted him. Every day that passed changed him, it seemed, his memories growing clearer and the warm presence of his father in them making his and Lou’s journey less lonely. 

. . .

They wander, making the occasional delivery, running away from Mules, the usual.

And then it isn’t. 

Sam’s running from Mules, when all the sudden the rock beneath his foot gives out, causing him to stumble, to sway. 

The cliff edge is close,  _ too close,  _ and then he’s very aware that the ground is no longer beneath his feet and he’s  _ falling. _

He wraps as much of his body around Lou as he can, knowing that if he dies, he’ll probably come back.

If she does, there’s nothing he can do. 

He hits the ground and the pain nearly overwhelms him. He tries to breathe, to calm down, to pull himself together enough to soothe Lou, who is screaming in her pod, but the shifting of his ribs is excruciating.

He forces himself to breathe though, hissing as he drags one arm up to unhook the pod and rock it as well as it can as he hums as loud as he can bear. She finally calms, after a long and painful time, and he hooks her back on. 

That’s when he notices the blood.

It’s all over his front, on the pod, on the ground, pooling heavily, and he feels even more lightheaded than before. Further examination finds his port, his connection to her,  _ her lifeline,  _ has been ripped around and crushed. 

He curses, letting out a pained yell as he uses the arm that hurts less to push himself up, and he nearly blacks out from the pain and the sudden rush of blood that leaves the wound in his stomach.

He has one bloodpack still intact in the cargo containers lying destroyed around him, and he hooks himself up to it after shoving a wad of bandages against the hole in his gut, taping it in place. 

Then’s the worst part, getting to his feet.

He manages it though, with no shortage of hissing and yelling, and once he’s up and his vision clears again, he checks his map.

Heartman is the closest, but he’s definitely not close. 

But he’s also the only one in the area that Sam knows can save Lou, so he struggles to take in a breath, and pushes his aching body to put one foot in front of the other. 

. . .

No matter how often he changes the bandages and packs more into the space, the bleeding refuses to stop. 

He’s so tired, limbs shaking, head spinning, but he struggles forward for the only thing that matters to him right now. 

The snow is heavy around his feet, making it even more difficult, and over the howl of the wind and the intensity of the pain, he hears his father’s voice. 

_ “You’ve done so well, my son.” _

“I’m not giving up,” Sam tells him, and then Cliff is next to him, nodding.

_ “I know. You’ve got to get there, and soon.” _

“Gotta save her.”

_ “You can do it, Sam.” _

And then he drifts back a little farther into the wind, close enough for Sam to see out of the corner of his eye, but not at his side.

. . .

  
  


His body gives out halfway up a hill, and he collapses.

Cliff isn't there anymore, it’s just him and Lou. 

Sam uses what little strength he has to unhook her from the carrier, putting her in the crook of his elbow so she can see him.

He feels the dribble of blood at the corner of his mouth and down his cheek then, and all he can think of is his father. Cliff laying on the floor, cradling him in his own pod, bloodied, just wanting him to be safe, to live. 

Sam snorts at how cruel it all is, that history repeats like this, that him and his daughter will share that fate. 

Except it'll be worse this time, there’s no Amelie to save Lou this time.

He holds her a little tighter, draws in his breath, and begins to hum.

_ See the sunset,  _

_ The day is ending,  _

_ Let that yawn out, _

_ There’s no pretending… _

“I’m sorry, Lou,” He whispers, and then the darkness sweeps in and takes him away.


End file.
